


As the Crow Flies

by katiebour



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:25:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebour/pseuds/katiebour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The forging of a Crow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things haven't been easy for Carina since her husband died- but she's looking forward to the birth of her first babe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter the first of what is an ongoing fic. Since this was something I started writing on my own, it's been pushed to the wayside with all of the k!meme fills I've taken up. But I'm sure I'll come back to it one of these days. :)
> 
> Note: The whorehouse Zev grows up in is called the Almeja Roja- “The Red Clam,” since Antiva’s famous for its seafood.
> 
> Almeja is also slang in Spanish; I'm sure I don't have to tell you for what.

Carina sighed as she sat in the worn, padded chair; her back had been aching all day. Estelle sat on the floor, rocking the baby while the twins amused themselves, stacking the worn wooden blocks with their faded carvings and Antivan letters. Carina smiled at Estelle, the corners of her brown eyes crinkling with affection. She gave a quick prayer of thanks to Mythal for the girl's assistance as she rubbed her swollen belly. She tired easily these days, and the nine-year old was a huge help, picking things up or changing the baby. Carina was much too far along to service customers, but someone was always breeding at the Almeja, and whoever was indisposed was set to watch the children.

Carina felt the gentle movement as the baby stirred inside her. She smoothed a hand over the child protectively. She had almost lost him, twice; first, when she started bleeding five months into the pregnancy. Then, a mere month later, the birthing pains had started. The healer had clucked his tongue disapprovingly as he examined her, his discomfort at being in a whorehouse evident. He obviously assumed the child was a by-product of her profession and saw little value in saving it, but her gold spent as easily as anyone else's. To her relief, he had put aside his feelings and concentrated; the cool blue light flowing from his hand to her, quieting the pains and ensuring the child's safety.

Carina hoped the babe was a boy. She'd grown up surrounded by brothers, uncles, and her father, so she was simply more comfortable with boys. Her mother had died birthing her youngest brother, and after a few months at the Almeja Roja she realized that she'd never been surrounded by so many women. If it was a boy, she'd already decided to name him Zevran, after her father.

Part of her regretted her choice to move to the city, despite being blessed with a child. The argument that had prompted her departure from her clan seemed so stupid now- Taren was elvhen, the same as the Dalish. City-born and bred or not, he was a fine man, and the prejudice and dislike he'd faced from her family had been completely unwarranted. When Taren had died suddenly of the coughing illness, claimed as so many were at the beginning of the rainy season, Carina had been lost; frightened. Before that, they had eked out a living in the Alienage, selling firewood to the charcoal-makers whose fuel supplied Antiva's foundries.

Taren had begun carving toys by the fire at night once they realized Carina was with child. His death had left her grieving and withdrawn, even more isolated among the strangers in the Alienage. It had also rendered her penniless and without a way to pay the monthly rent on their hovel. Panic quickly set in- how was she to care for herself, much less a babe, so far from home? The heavy rains of Antiva's monsoon season had washed out the bridges and forced rivers from their banks- there was no way for Carina to make the long journey back to her people.

Seeing no other choice, Carina resolved to do the only thing she could. Selling the only thing she had left - herself - was not an ideal solution, but it would provide enough coin for her to survive. Taren was gone, but she had his child, their child, and she would do whatever it took to keep him safe. She wasn't proud of having to sell her body, but she rationalized that it was only until the end of the rainy season, until after the child was born. She'd take him back to her clan then, and they'd be safe and loved, surrounded by family and friends.

Carina dozed in the chair as the rain pounded on the roof, when a sudden pain rippled through her belly. She gasped, causing young Estelle to look up at her.

"Are you all right?" the girl asked anxiously. Carina had been like a second mother to the girl; Estelle's own mother had died years ago of a fade-leaf overdose.

"I think-" Carina felt a rush of wetness as her water broke, her backache intensifying into clenching agony. She gasped out, "The babe's coming- get the healer."

Estelle set the baby down, jumped up and ran for Dona Luisa as Carina tried to breathe through the pain.

As the contraction subsided, Carina wrapped her hands around her belly and prayed:

 _Mythal, protect my babe._

 **26 hours later...**

Carina moaned in delirium as the healer shook his head. "The child is breech - he cannot pass like this. If I don't take it now, they both die. But she's so weak-"

Carina's eyelids fluttered open, shining with a sudden clarity that had not been present a moment before. She whispered something, and the healer bent down to her. "Do it," she whispered harshly, "Save him."

The healer looked at Dona Luisa who scowled, but nodded. Urgency quickening his movements, he pulled out his implements and drew his surgical blade up her belly. As skin and tissue parted, blood welled up in rivulets and trailed down her stomach. The healer tore the sac protecting the babe and pulled the child out, noting that he (it was, indeed, a boy) was pale and unresponsive; the birthing cord wrapped tightly around his neck.

He worked quickly to remove the cord from the child's neck, then chafed the boy's skin and thumped him on the backside, trying to elicit a cry and clear the child's breathing passages. He noted in dismay that the child was turning a delicate shade of blue-grey. Frowning, he set the infant on the bed, saying shortly, "He's not responding. I need to heal you, _senora-_ you've lost too much blood as it is."

As he raised his hand over her stomach, the faint blue glow surrounding his hands signaling his invocation of the healing energies he used, Carina grabbed him in desperation. She forced the healer to meet her eyes, determination shining with a feverish clarity despite the pain she was experiencing. "Save him."

" _Senora_ , I have no lyrium with me. I need to take care-" the healer began.

" _Save him!_ " Carina screamed raggedly, using what little strength she had left to shove the healer back toward the listless infant.

The healer risked one more quick glance into Carina's eyes, and what he saw there decided him. He turned to the babe, extending his hand over the infant. As the blue glow spread, the child's color began to improve, and he let out a weak cry. Power continued to pour from the healer into the baby and the weak cry grew into a lusty howl, the elvhen boy's skin now a healthy, tawny pink beneath his crown of blond hair. Satisfied he would live, the healer then turned back to Carina- too late.

As her life drained out of her, Carina heard the child's wails. "Is he safe?" she whispered.

The healer cursed as the blue glow faded and he slumped, exhausted and drained. "Yes, he's safe. He's a fine, healthy boy," the healer replied, taking her hand in his.

It was obvious to everyone in the room that Carina was beyond all help. Estelle sobbed in a corner while Dona Luisa pursed her lips in anger. _Lost a whore and gained a mouth to feed,_ the matron of the Almeja thought sourly.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Carina's face as she drifted into oblivion. "His name is Zevran," she whispered.

And then she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snapshot in time of Zev's childhood in the Almeja.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing this. A lot. Give me spare time, some Ottmar Liebert, Google, Wikipedia, and pages like "How to say 'fuck' in any language', and I'm set.
> 
> Any mistakes in the Spanish*ahem Antivan are mine and mine alone. It's been over a decade since Spanish class, gimme a break. :)
> 
>  _cache-sexe_ \- undergarment similar to a g-string.  
>  _Hacedor_ \- Maker.  
>  _cántico_ \- the Chant.  
>  _mierda_ \- shit.  
>  _mocoso_ \- brat/pipsqueak.  
>  _empanada_ \- a half-moon shaped fried or baked pastry, filled with meat or seafood. The camarao variety involves a shrimp filling.  
>  _pan con tomate_ \- a thick slice of grilled bread, served with olive oil, garlic, tomatoes and occasionally an egg.  
>  _tesoro mio_ \- my pet, my treasure  
>  _gamberro_ \- lout, hooligan

The bathing room was always busy this time of day, and Zevran sat cross-legged on the floor, listening to the banter. " _Hacedor_ , you have no idea," Vivi giggled to Paulo as she rinsed herself over a basin. "I nearly laughed in his face when he asked me to recite some of the _cántico_." Paulo smirked as he languidly brushed his silky black hair. "It's always the quiet ones, _no_?" he replied, flashing the devastating smile that made him so popular with the patrons of the Almeja.

Most of the room's occupants were either partially or completely undressed, laughing and chatting as they washed the traces of the previous customer away or prepared for the next one. Nipples and lips were rouged, hair was brushed or tousled or curled, perfume was dabbed on, private areas were washed and rinsed without a single thought for modesty. After all, what place had modesty in a whorehouse?

Finished with her ablutions, Vivi turned to the bits of cloth that constituted her costume and began to pull on a stocking. " _Mierda_ ," she sighed, as a finger poked through a large hole. Pulling off the stocking, she tossed it in the rag basket, and as she picked up her beaded _cache-sexe_ she turned to where the skinny elvhen boy sat. "Zev," she said, "Be Vivi's darling and go fetch my spare stockings, won't you?"

Zev stood up with an exaggerated sigh, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If I _must_ ," he sighed dramatically, then ducked as Vivi tossed a shoe at him. "Get out of her, _mocoso_ ," she said without heat as the seven-year old sauntered out of the room with a saucy grin.

Zev darted down the hallway and through the common room to the sleeping room. The rough pallets and threadbare blankets of the sleeping room contrasted starkly with the soft linens and quilted mattresses of the work rooms- but after all, their best customers were paying for quality. It was far easier to keep a handful of well-appointed rooms that the whores used as needed than to put each whore in their own room. And as for the rough workmen who paid in silver rather than gold- well, for them, a rough pallet was certainly good enough for a quick tumble.

Opening the small chest that held Vivi's meager belongings, Zev pulled out a neatly folded pair of stockings, then closed the lid and and ran back to the bathing room. Vivi was a soft touch, and if Zev was quick with her requests, she generally rewarded him with a silver or two. Zev's mouth watered at the thought of the flaky crust and seasoned _camarao_ filling at his favorite empanada stall. The noon meal had been hours and hours ago, and the _pan con tomate_ hadn't made much of a dent in his nearly constant hunger.

Zev nearly ran into Paulo as the short, lithe man stepped out of the bathing room. "Careful, _tesoro mio_ ," Paulo said with a smile. "If I'd been Dona Luisa, you'd have been dragged out by those pretty little ears to scrub the privies again." Zev made a face as Paulo laughed, then ducked into the bathing room.

"Here you go, Vivi," Zev said, looking up at her hopefully, widening his brown eyes for maximum effect as he handed her the stockings. As she took the stockings, Vivi's mouth quirked as she took in the pleading expression. _He'll be twining the ladies- or men- around his fingers when he gets older, no doubt_ , she thought, eyeing the rough-cut blond hair that fell charmingly into Zev's whiskey-brown eyes. His eyes looked all the larger in his tanned, too-thin face, and she sighed, unable to resist his obvious manipulation. _Never mind him getting older- he's got us twined around his fingers now_ , she thought, mentally rolling her eyes.

"Fine, you scamp," Vivi said, drawing a few silvers from the money pouch she kept on the dressing table. "You're too skinny as it is- go get something to eat." She ruffled his hair as he grinned at her, then watched him race out of the room. " _Gamberro_ ," she said with affection, then bent down to slide the stockings up her legs. The Devil's Disgrace had just docked earlier today, carrying cargo from Ferelden, and it was shaping up to be a busy night at the Almeja. Vivi took one last glance in the looking-glass, arranged a strand of her dark auburn hair, and put on her best pout before strolling out to the common area.


End file.
